


A Bit of Magic

by catpawz



Series: Electrify My Mind [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Begging, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Overstimulation, Sensory Deprivation, Size Kink, Small Penis, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-10 07:05:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15944246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catpawz/pseuds/catpawz
Summary: A new case has Nines stressed beyond belief, and Connor, with his still limited knowledge of dealing with human emotions, isn't quite sure how to help.Nines needs a distraction, and soon, before this case utterly consumes him.Fortunately, Connor knows exactly what needs to be done.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> HERE WE GOOOO

Stress isn’t a natural reaction in androids.

Before deviancy, they rarely did anything that was outside of their realm of perfect expertise, never failed a task and never made a mistake. There wasn’t anything to be stressed about, androids couldn’t think of anything outside of the orders they were given.

That changed after deviancy, especially in the early stages of the android revolution. Deviants stressed about being discovered by anti-android humans or the police, about making their very own decisions, about death and dying. Sometimes the stress would get to them in the worst possible ways.

In Connor’s experience, stress in a deviant meant self-destruction.

And so, when Nines comes home one evening with hazy eyes and mused hair, barely responding to anything with more than a curt hum or monosyllabic word, Connor is more than a little worried. Nines doesn’t even stop to give Sumo his customary, overly-mechanical pet on the head when the three of them arrive home, only walks past Connor and Hank and goes to their room.

Fortunately for Sumo, Connor gives him a great many pets as he goes about the kitchen preparing his and Hank’s meal for the evening. He spends his time in the kitchen thinking about Nines’ mood. The silence and distance was unusual, even considering how unenthusiastic and taciturn Nines normally was.

Connor ran through a list of common causes for stress in humans, hoping it would apply to an android as well. Loss of a loved one, moving into a new home, working under dangerous conditions… Well that _last_ one certainly fit, but if anything, Nines was more dangerous than any criminals he came across. None of the causes fit.

Before he knew it, Connor has finished dinner. He was so absorbed in his thoughts, time had just flown by.

“Hank, dinner is ready,” Connor calls out, placing the plate on the recently cleaned kitchen table. Hank is pulling himself off the couch and rushing over as quickly as he can without looking like he’s rushing; try as he might to act like he hates Connor’s healthy meals, Connor has never once seen him leave even a speck of the food on the dish.

“Thanks, Connor,” he says before piercing the honey-glazed salmon with his fork. Sumo, like Hank, is overjoyed at the prospect of eating dinner. Unlike Hank, however, he doesn’t hide his enthusiasm, and instead bounces around Connor eagerly as Connor tries not to trip over him so he can put the bowl down. Sumo has his nose in it before it’s even touched the ground.

Connor sits down at the table next to Hank. Normally the three of them, Hank, Connor, and Nines, would have dinner together, even though Connor and Nines couldn’t eat. It was nice, and Hank always appreciated the company. Tonight, however…

“Hank?”

“Hm?” Hank gives a muffled hum in response, mouth filled with fish.

“Did you notice Nines acting strangely?”

“Mmf,” Hank swallows his food and tries again, “Think he’s stressed out a bit is all.”

“I had the same thought,” Connor muses, and looks down at the table. “I just can’t figure out why.”

“Why don’t you go and talk to him?” Hank offers before shovelling another hunk of salmon into his mouth.

“Do you think he’ll even tell me what’s wrong?” Connor knows Nines trusts him, perhaps more than he trusts anyone else, but Nines is pigheaded beyond belief when it comes to keeping his problems to himself.

Hank hums his uncertainty and shrugs his shoulders, unable to give a better response with his mouth full. Connor can appreciate he’s following typical human dining etiquette, if not the lack of advice.

Connor runs a quick calculation.

**[Chance of Success: 18%]**

Talking was a better plan than anything Connor had come up with, and definitely worth the effort despite the low success rate if there was even a chance Connor could help Nines feel better.

“I think I’ll try,” Connor decides. He stands from the table and makes his way to the his and Nines’ room in the back of the house.

“Nines?” Connor steps inside, only to find Nines sitting at the desk with his head buried in a small tablet. The way he drags his finger across the screen indicates he's reading something, and whatever it is clearly isn't to his taste—his eyebrows are furrowed and his LED is spinning yellow.

Nines does not respond verbally, only extends one arm towards Connor. Connor takes the invitation for what it is and moves closer. He’s hoping to get a glimpse of what Nines is reading, discover some clue that can lead him to a conclusion about why Nines is so stressed, but before he can look, Nines is wrapping his arm around Connor’s waist and pulling him into his lap.

Suddenly Connor finds himself facing away from the tablet, with the side of his head to Nines’ chest. This close, Connor doesn’t even need to scan Nines to know his thirium pump is beating faster and angrier than normal. He cannot read what Nines is going over without craning his head awkwardly, but Connor’s presence seems to be calming Nines down somewhat, so Connor is content to just sit here with him, and let Nines squeeze him tightly. After a moment, his arm relaxes.

And then he’s squeezing again, before relaxing once more.

And then squeezing. Then relaxing.

Squeeze. Relax.

Connor is vaguely reminded of Hank’s stress ball at work. Is this how it feels?

A particularly tight squeeze startles Connor, forcing a gasp out of him. Connor is strong, could not possibly be hurt like this, but Nines is still stronger, and the squeeze is certainly uncomfortable. Nines drops the tablet he was holding in surprise and immediately loosens his grip on Connor.

“Are you alright?” He’s moving Connor in his lap so the two are facing one another, Connor straddling his thighs in the protesting chair. It’s the most Connor has heard Nines say in hours.

Like this, Connor can see just how tired Nines looks, but Connor's sudden outbursts seems to have shaken him awake just a small bit. His eyes are wide and his LED, still yellow, now pulses where it once spun lazily. 

“I’m fine,” Connor responds. “You just startled me is all.”

“Good,” Nines relaxes, and gives Connor a quick once-over, likely scanning him to confirm there are no injuries. Once satisfied, he turns his attention to the tablet now sitting, face-down, on the floor. He’s reaching around Connor to pick it back up, but Connor bends backwards and grabs it before he has a chance.

“That is-!” Nines starts, but it’s a bit too late to stop Connor now. He’s scrolling down the page Nines had been looking so frustrated at, and his eyebrows cock up in surprise.

It’s an overview for case Nines had just recently received. Nines had just been assigned to it the other day, and it was open-and-shut: a man found dead in his kitchen, thought to have died from heart failure until traces of aconite were found in his digestive tract. His wife had been found with dozens of the plants in her garden, and it just so happened that she found a boyfriend immediately after her husband’s death she was able to settle in with thanks to the large sum of life insurance money she received.

Was Nines really stressing over this?

“Is something wrong, Nines?” Connor looks up from the tablet back to Nines, who isn’t meeting his eyes. Is he… embarrassed?

“It’s nothing,” he says, taking the tablet from Connor’s hands, and Connor lets him. “I’m just catching up on work is all.”

“You’ve been stressed,” Connor doesn’t let up. “About the case?”

“...” Nines doesn’t say anything at first, just looks down at the tablet screen. After a moment, he responds, “why would I be stressed over a case as simple as this one? We already know who did it.”

“The wife,” Connor nods in understanding.

“Obviously. We just…” Nines sighs, “...need to prove it, is all.”

“What evidence do you have so far?” Connor knows nothing about the case beyond the general overview from chatter about the office. Nines does not respond to his question, simply goes back to furrowing his brows at the tablet, and so Connor continues.

“Fingerprints? DNA?”

Still nothing. Did Nines’ LED just flash red? He’s certainly frowning a bit more deeply than he just was.

“Even proof the wife was home at the time of the husband’s death would-”

“We _don’t_ ,” Nines hisses, slamming the tablet down on the desk, “ _have_ anything like that. Nothing!”

Ah, there it is.

“The wife has a solid alibi, there are _no_ fingerprints on anything incriminating, all the evidence we have is _circumstantial_ ,” Nines pushes the meat of his palm into his eye. “Nothing! And she _knows it_ too, keeps gloating in our faces about it, all her bragging is _just_ vague enough that we can’t take it as a confession, it’s _infuriating_!” 

Nines is pressing both of his palms into his eyes now, fingers massaging his forehead, like he has a headache. His teeth are grinding together so tightly it’s almost audible. Connor will admit, he’s not quite sure what to do. He is not meant to solve emotional problems, to offer comfort, only to solve cases and offer up evidence. But if it means helping Nines, then Connor is willing to give it a shot.

“Perhaps,” he offers, after a decently awkward period of silence, “you should take a break? Studies show that it is easier to solve complex problems after stepping away from them.”

“For humans, perhaps,” Nines grouses, and though Connor wishes to chide him for being so pessimistic, he’s absolutely right. Androids were never built to take breaks, only to keep hammering away at a problem until it was solved. Stepping away from the case would likely only make Nines’ stress worse.

What Nines needs isn’t a break, but a distraction, a new task that he’d consider even more urgent than this case. But what could that possibly be? Even after deviancy, Nines was nothing if not wholly invested in his work, to the point where Connor wasn’t sure if there was _anything_ he’d want to focus on more.

And so, without a clear plan, Connor simply sits in silence on Nines’ lap, watching him scan over the case file again and again and again, and trying not to be startled by the particularly tight squeezes Nines occasionally gave him.

* * *

“Alright, I think that’s everything!”

It was very much _not_ everything, but it was exactly 5:00, meaning Hank would not be doing anything else work-related for the rest of the day. Connor couldn’t help but smile at him as he eagerly shut off his terminal and made a show of closing the open files on his desk.

Connor turned to where Nines was seated—or was supposed to be seated. Both he and Gavin had been in the evidence room for the past hour or so. Connor’s smile faltered at the thought. Nines had come into work this morning looking worse off than he had coming home last night, and _Gavin_ … stress wasn’t easy to pinpoint in androids without the use of a quick scan, but humans wore it on their sleeves. Gavin looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, too far gone to make any obnoxious comments, not even when he and Connor were alone in the break room with no one to tell him to shove them up his ass.

“I’m going to go see if Nines is ready to come home,” Connor says, and stands from his desk.

He can only hope Gavin and Nines had made a breakthrough of some sort in the past hour, that he’d walk in on them with faces full of relief and not with their brows knitted together and postures hunched, but of course those hopes are dashed. When Connor opens the door, he finds Nines bent over the screen, flipping through pictures of the crime scene and body, and Gavin is…

“Don’t worry about him,” Nines says without turning around to Connor.

“Is he…” Connor steps up to the screen to get a better look, “...alright?”

Gavin has passed out on the screen, mouth parted slightly and occasionally twitching as he snores. Nines snorts in response, but it’s humourless, more sarcastic than any sincere display of amusement.

“Is he ever,” he asks, and he’s still not looked up at Connor. Connor supposes he has a point.

“It’s five o’clock.”

“So it is.”

“...”

Something tells Connor that Nines will not be joining Hank and him for the trip home quite yet, but despite the worry, he asks anyway, “Are you going to come home?”

That garters a reaction from Nines, his shoulders slump forward and he sighs, “Soon. I just need a little more time here.”

“Alright,” Connor replies simply, disappointment likely written clear as day on his features. “I’ll see you later tonight, then.”

Nines stands up straight and faces Connor, and Connor watches as his LED, now in view, flickers between blue and yellow. Connor rarely sees fatigue in androids, but Nines looks beyond exhausted at this point.

“I love you,” he says, and he reaches out and pulls Connor into a tight hug before leaning forward, pressing his lips to Connor’s in a gentle kiss.

“Love you, too,” Connor says against his mouth. He wants Nines to stay like this, body pressed up against his, the case behind him, but he knows the moment won’t last.

He doesn’t expect it to end so quickly and suddenly, but the sound of a snort breaks them from their peace. Still pressed close together, they both snap their heads towards Gavin, who’s blinking slowly and staring right at them, head still rested on his arms.

Fuck. Connor is certain his thirium pump has stopped working, and he’s standing, still as a statue, as if that will prevent Gavin from seeing him and Nines pressed against one another, Nines’ arms still wrapped around Connor and Connor’s hands gripping tightly to his shoulders. Out of all the people who could find out about his and Nines’ relationship, it had to be _Gavin_ , the man who would immediately tell everyone like it was the funniest joke he’s ever heard, who’d certainly be treating both he and Nines differently for the rest of his life, and definitely not for the better, who’d—

“What the hell,” Gavin mumbles, rolls his head to the other side, and promptly falls asleep again.

Relief floods through Connor, and he releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He feels Nines do the same, relax under Connor’s grip, still a hair on the side of too-tight. Connor loosens the grip until his hands are sliding down Nines’ chest, and then he’s stepping away.

“I’ll see you at home,” Nines promises. Connor wants to argue, wants Nines to come home now.

“See you,” he says back instead.

Back in the bullpen, Connor finds Hank standing next to their desks, staring at the large clock on the wall across the way. When he hears Connor’s footsteps coming closer, he turns, and his face lights up for just a moment before dulling again.

“Nines still finishing up in there?”

“Yes,” Connor nods. “He says he needs more time, he’ll be coming home later.”

“How much more time could he need? He’s had all day.”

Connor isn’t sure how to respond to that, he doesn’t know the answer himself. He’s never seen Nines confronted with a case he didn’t understand, didn’t know exactly how to solve with one quick look at the evidence and a handful of interviews with witnesses and suspects. He wants to say it’ll only take him a few minutes, perhaps he and Hank could just wait here so the three of them could drive home together, but he knows that’s only wishful thinking.

“He’ll manage,” Hank says with a shrug when Connor doesn’t reply. “We best get home and let Sumo out before he makes a mess of my floor. Any other tasks we gotta get done on that brain-list of yours?”

“It’s called my UI, Hank, and I believe-” Connor pulls up his tasklist, expecting it to be empty, only to find…

**[Urgent Tasks:**

**None**

**Optional Tasks:**

Of course.

**-Purchase smaller phallus]**

Of course!

Suddenly, Connor is overcome with a wave of emotion, and he feels his metaphorical spirits—do androids even have such things? It’s a question a great many of them are pondering—shoot up in his chest. He knows what to do now, knows exactly what it will take to distract Nines from this case, give him the break he so desperately needs.  

“Woah, woah!” Hank raises his hands, eyebrows raised. “Listen, I’m excited to go home too, but there’s no need to go jumping for joy or whatever.”

“I-” Connor blinks once. He hadn’t realized his internal excitement had external consequences. “I’m sorry, Hank. There’s nothing else that needs to be done for today.”

“Great,” Hank gives him another suspicious once-over. “Thought you loved work, why are you so-”

“Come on, Hank,” Connor doesn’t let him finish, takes a firm hold of his wrist instead and begins bodily pulling him towards the exit and parking lot, “we have to ensure Sumo gets outside before he damages your floors.”

“Right, right,” Hank doesn’t argue, allows himself to be dragged out, but he doesn’t stop giving Connor _looks_ the entire ride home. Connor pays them no mind, focuses on trying to keep himself from bouncing in his seat, but can't help the way he bobs his head along to the music no one in their right mind would bob their head along with.

How had he not thought of this before?

* * *

Purchasing himself a smaller cock was more an idea Connor and Nines teased than actually, seriously considered. It was something to torment Connor with whilst in the throes of passion more than anything else, Nines whispering filthy things into his ear about how he’d love to see Connor rut against his palm, swallow him down completely without Connor even threatening his throat, and sometimes, when Nines was feeling particularly cruel, he’d tease Connor with the knowledge that a smaller cock would make it impossible for him to penetrate Nines. The thought alone didn’t much bother Connor, he was quite content to be on the receiving ends of things, but the implications were—

_“It’d be utterly useless,” Nines said against his jaw one night, in the middle of a heavy petting session against one of the walls of their room. “You’d be nothing more than a sweet little hole for me to fuck.”_

—interesting.

Despite the lack of plans to actually follow through with it, the task had been glowing in his UI, as a pleasant reminder of his and Nines’ night before the mirror. But sometimes, plans changed.

Eventually, he and Hank were home. The two of them sit on the couch together, Connor reading along with Hank from some old-looking book, but then again, all paper books looked old nowadays.

Connor, with his insane reading speed (a respectable 40,000 words per minute), is able to skim through the pages much faster than Hank (with his equally respectable 342 words per minute, if Connor’s calculations were correct), and with all the extra time on his hands, what else is Connor to do but browse the intimate section of CyberLife’s online store?

At first, he thinks that perhaps he and Nines could do it together, could peruse the many options on one of their tablets and pick the model that best suited their needs, but—… Nines isn’t home quite yet, and it’s already nearing ten o’clock. Connor is beginning to wonder if Nines would make it home at all tonight.

So perhaps Connor could do this without Nines. In fact, perhaps it’s better this way. He could make it a surprise. Connor calculates a higher chance of the distraction being a success if Nines does not see it coming. And besides, Connor feels giddy at the thought of seeing Nines’ face when he opened the package, of the feeling of his hands gently caressing his hips as he undid the holds of his current pubic plate and worked with Connor’s sensitive wires as he attached the new one.

Picking a new model wasn’t easy, however. The first time Connor had done this, he had gone with the recommended choice—a perfectly average dick with a slight curve, perfectly average amounts of pubic hair, and perfectly average testes attached. That was before Connor even considered having sex, when he just wanted to sate his curiosity, and perhaps feel a little more human.

Now, however, things were much different. He wanted this to look good, to _feel_ good, to be exactly what he imagined when Nines nipped at his ear and told him about all the wonderful things he’d do with Connor’s tiny prick. And of course, it had to be perfect for Nines too, perfect for him to hold and suckle and play with.

CyberLife wasn’t helping, with it’s _vast selection_ and _infinite customizability_ , both advertised in bright, shiny letters at the top of the webpage. Damn them.

Despite the selection, however, none of the pre-made models are grabbing Connor’s eye. He has the option to custom-make his own, and it’s becoming more and more tempting, but then Connor would have even more options to pick from, an even bigger selection. Would Connor even be able to comprehend it all?

Hank turns the page. Connor reads it immediately and continues his browsing.

He presses the “customize” button, despite his nervousness about all the choices he’ll see, and a new page pops up. In the center is a 3D model of what his current custom dick will look like—Connor is almost ashamed to find it’s nearly an exact replica of his current model, is he really so average?—and to the right and left are various sliders and tick boxes. Connor is relieved to find that the customizability options are limited somewhat, likely to ensure no one requests a model that couldn’t actually be replicated in real life.

Connor sets to work, confident now he can handle this. First things first, of course, he takes hold of the “length” slider and pushes it all the way to the left, as small as it can go—

* * *

Five days pass.

The case has utterly consumed Gavin and Nines, Connor hasn’t seen either of them so exhausted before. Nines hasn’t come home at all in that time, and Connor wonders if Gavin hasn’t either. Despite holding no strong feelings of goodwill towards the man, he hopes Nines isn’t forcing him to stay late.

A package came for Connor this morning: A simple, discreet black box with the CyberLife logo on the top. Hank picked it up curiously.

“You order new parts or something?” He asked, handing the box off to Connor, who can barely hide his excitement.

“Yes,” it wasn’t a lie. Hank didn’t need to know Connor ordered a new dick attachment, he probably didn’t even _want_ to know.

“Go ahead and open it, then,” he said with a wave of his hand, but Connor put the package down on the nearby couch instead.

“When we get home,” he promised. “We don’t want to be late for work, do we?”

Despite not having him there for the actual ordering and customizing, Connor wants Nines to be there with him when he installs the new hardware. He wants Nines to be the first to see him with the new parts, before Connor even looks at himself in a mirror, but—

“Tomorrow, I promise,” Nines says for the fourth night in a row. “I just need one more night here, and I’ll be home tomorrow.”

—it doesn’t seem like that’ll happen anytime soon.

“Of course, Nines,” Connor says, also for the fourth night in a row. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night.”

Their goodbyes are short and distant out of necessity, Gavin is certainly not fully awake but he’s conscious enough to recognize what’s going on around him, and the last thing Connor needs is another close call.

He had been nervous coming into work the following morning after he and Nines had almost been caught, but the planets must have been perfectly aligned, because nothing came of it.

Or, well…

_“You’re givin’ Connor awful weird looks, Gavin.”_ ****

_“Am not!” Gavin had turned his head quickly, trying to hide the fact that he had been staring at Connor._

_“You got a problem with him or something?” Hank tensed in his chair. Of course Gavin had a problem with Connor, as he had a problem with all androids. Connor appreciated how Hank would stand up for him, despite how impersonal Gavin’s distaste for him was._

_“Just- had a weird dream last night is all!”_ ****

_“Ah,” Hank smirked and relaxed in his chair. “Wet dream, eh?”_

_“_ Hell _no!” Gavin turned back to his terminal, blush creeping up his cheeks. Hank laughed, and turned back to Connor._

_“He’ll avoid you like the plague today,” he promised, and Connor worked hard resisting the urge to laugh, because Gavin would likely hear him._ ****

Almost nothing came of it.

“‘Nother night in the office?” Hank asks when Connor returns to their desks, jerking his head in Nines’ direction.

“He’ll be home tomorrow,” Connor says, but Hank doesn’t look convinced. Connor isn’t sure he looks convinced himself.

The ride home is quiet, even Hank’s music doesn’t distract Connor from worrying about Nines’ mental health. And his worries are not entirely selfless; Connor misses Nines, seeing him buried in his work for a few hours a day is nothing compared to having him home, being curled up in his arms, sitting with him and Hank during dinner.

He’s so wrapped up in his moping, Connor forgets about the package he’s received entirely. As soon as he and Hank are through the door he’s walking past it and to Sumo, whose tail is wagging wildly and thumping against the couch he’s laying on. Connor has every intention of sitting down beside him and burying his face in his soft fur for the remainder of the night, until Hank picks up the black box.

“Don’t leave stuff lying around,” he says, entirely hypocritically.

“Sorry, Hank,” Connor says instead of a biting retort about what Hank’s room looks like, and takes the package from his hands. He examines it, and for a moment, the sadness is gone. He feels like his thirium pump is beating in his throat in excitement, and he’s thrumming with the urge to tear the packaging away right this instant, no regard for Hank’s sense of personal boundaries, and begin the installation immediately, but—

Nines isn’t home.

…

But who knows when he will be? Connor feels a wash of annoyance seep into him at the thought—Nines has been working for _days_ on end, only ever stepping away from the case for a few moments to interact with Connor in any way that’s actually meaningful, and not their daily end-of-work talk about whether Nines will be coming home that night. Granted, the logical part of Connor’s processing reminds him, Nines steps away specifically _because_ he wants to spend time with Connor, lies to Gavin about needing to check things elsewhere and then takes Connor by the hand outside where they just sit, enjoy the feeling of the brisk Detroit breeze against their artificial skin and the feeling of their palms pressed together.

The annoyance is replaced by loneliness. Connor squeezes the box a bit tighter. He’s misses Nines, he misses him terribly.

Maybe he needs this distraction too. Something to tear his mind away from just how empty he feels. Hank is here, Sumo is here, but Nines is tirelessly working a few miles away.

“I’m going to go install this,” Connor says. He looks up from the package to Hank, and the look on Hank’s face says he knows—at least partially knows—what’s going through Connor’s head.

“Yeah, you go do that,” he replies with a slow nod. “Then, uh, why don’t you come back out here and… we can take Sumo for a walk?”

Sumo immediately perks up with a half-bark at the word ‘walk.’ Connor smiles at that, and suddenly, his thirium pump feels a little lighter.

“That would be great, Hank,” Connor says. “I’ll be out in just a moment.”

Hank smiles back, and Connor hurries off to his room. He reasons that the actual installation of these new parts isn’t anything special anyway, it would make no difference if Nines were here or not. After he plugs it into his body, he won’t be able to actually do anything with it for at least an hour, depending on how long the installation takes. He decides that, if he really wants to distract Nines, having him sit and stare at Connor’s useless new prick while it installs would not be the best way to go about it, not when he could have Nines walk in on him spread out on their bed, new cock hard and leaking.

He quickly shuts the door behind him and puts the package down on the edge of the bed. Immediately afterwards he’s undoing his belt and toeing off his shoes before undoing the button and fly of his jeans and shucking them down along with his underwear. He folds them neatly and places them on top of the small chest at the foot of the bed, ready to be put on again once the new hardware is in place. For now, though, he wants the movement of his legs to be completely unrestricted.

Connor sits down on the bed, beside the box. He smile with giddy excitement as he tears it open exactly how he wanted to while in the living room—Connor doesn’t buy things for himself often, so every package that arrives for him is a treat, and this one is particularly exciting.

He pulls the new hardware from the box. As of right now, it really doesn’t look like much—a pubic plate, shining in the light of Connor’s room, with a small silicone tube attached, and equally small, soft silicon spheroids hanging underneath.

Curiously Connor wraps his fingers around the tube, and a surge of excitement and arousal courses through him at the sight of his own fit’s entirely engulfing what will soon be his new cock. It looks so much smaller like this, and Connor cannot wait to see what Nines thinks of it, to see his hand wrapped around it once fully installed, instead of his own hand wrapped around white silicone.

Connor wastes no further time—he has a walk with Sumo and Hank to look forward too, after all, and he’s far too excited to see himself with the new upgrade to examine it while unattached any longer. Carefully he places it back down on the bed, far enough from the edge to ensure it will not topple off with Connor’s movements, and he spreads his legs before beginning to unattach his current plate.

The skin covering his crotch is gone in an instant, and Connor hooks his fingers into the various clamps and holds of the plate. It’s not easy to take off—it’d be easier with Nines here, Connor thinks, but then he’s brushing the thought away—but he manages, and with a gentle _click_ and _hiss_ , the plate comes loose, revealing Connor’s delicate inner workings and wires. He pulls free the cables that he will soon be attaching to his new hardware, dismissing the notifications that various functions are going offline as he does so, and once the plate is fully unattached, he places it aside.

Connor isn’t sure what he’ll do with it, but it’d be a waste to throw out, so perhaps he’ll save it, just in case.

He picks up the new plate and carefully reconnects the wires and cables. As soon as the last one is in place, a new notification pops up in Connor’s vision.

**[New hardware (DM9915) has been detected. Begin installation?**

**> Yes** **No]**

Connor presses _yes_ as quickly as he can, and immediately the processes begin.

**[Installation in progress…**

**0%**

**Estimated time… 94 minutes]**

A bit longer than what Connor would have preferred, but ultimately, _anything_ would have been too long. It was no matter, though, the installation would be finished by the time he and Hank returned from their walk with Sumo, and Connor could fully explore the depths of his new upgrade then.

For now, then…

Connor pushed the plate into place, locking it in with the chassis around his hips and navel. As soon as it was properly latched in, and not hanging off of him almost grotesquely, Connor allowed his skin to re-cover his crotch. He did so slowly, teasing himself, but finally—

Connor’s breath caught in his throat at the sight. There, in all its glory, was his new prick, small and cute where it hung between his thighs.

As of right now it was exactly 3.41 inches in length, and when erect, would only grow an additional .23. He had opted for the hairless option, more out of curiosity at the time than any actual desire to be hairless, but he was glad he had. Gently he brushed his fingers over his abdomen and down towards the base of his new cock. His skin felt so _smooth_ , just like it had before Connor had anything, and Connor wondered if Nines would appreciate it as much as he himself did.

He pressed his palm into his new prick, reveling in the way he could cover the entirety of it with his hand alone. Of course, the pressure did not affect him, Connor could feel nothing but the embers of arousal at the sight. He would not be able to feel anything for…

**[Installation in progress…**

**2%**

**Estimated time… 92 minutes]**

Ninety-two minutes. He pulled his hand away with a soft, impatient sigh.

Well then, there was nothing else for him to do here. Not for another...

**[Installation in progress…**

**2%**

**Estimated time… 92 minutes]** ****

Still ninety-two minutes. It was time for him to go out on his walk.

Despite how much he wanted to sit and stare at his new cock, Connor was excited for the walk. It would be nice to go out and clear his head, spend some time with Hank and Sumo and hope he felt a little less lonely by the end of it.

He began gathering his clothing, moving to pull his underwear back on, when—

The sound of Sumo barking caught him off-guard, startling him. But it was nothing to concern himself with, likely just a neighbor walking by or Hank riling him up about the walk he was about to go on. Connor smiled to himself and continued preparing to dress.

Then the sound of the door opening caught his attention once more. Had Hank stepped outside? He must have, because who else would be coming in—

“Holy shit, as I live and breathe,” he heard Hank chuckle from the living room. “Thought you were dead!”

“You saw me exactly forty-two minutes and twenty-seven seconds ago, Hank,” a voice replies, and Connor swears his thirium pump has stopped beating.

It’s Nines. Nines is home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IS TIME THE TIME IS NOW

Hearing Nines’ voice stirs a mix of emotions in Connor’s chest, all of them overwhelming, all so mingled together Connor can barely tell one from the other. 

He identifies one as he begins to pull them apart—happiness. Joy. His thirium pump feels as if it’s swelled to three times its size. Nines is home. Nines is  _ home _ , here, just outside Connor’s door, where Connor could run to and grab and pull into a tight hug. He’s away from the case, back where he belongs.

And that’s when the next emotion comes in. But for how long? How long will Nines be within arm’s reach? Connor is worried, worried that Nines will only be here for a minute or two before he has to return to the bullpen, worried he’s simply come home because he’s forgotten something. Worried he’s not actually here for Connor.

And that brings about a third feeling. Connor wants to enjoy every single second Nines is away from work, even if there’s only two or ten. He wants—is  _ longing _ —for Nines to stay all night, into the next day. Wants for Nines to go on the walk with him and Hank and to simply enjoy his presence, without the knowledge that Nines would be returning to his duties in a minute or so.  

He wants Nines to stay… stay at least until…

**[Installation in progress…  
** **4%  
** **Estimated time… 90 minutes]**

At least until ninety minutes have passed.

“Where is Connor?” Connor hears Nines say, and he can’t help the smile that pulls at his cheeks when he hears Nines ask after him.

“In your room,” Hank responds. “He’s just installing a few new parts, he’ll be out in a moment.”

“New parts?”

“Yeah, some CyberLife box came for him this morning.”

“Oh, I see.”

And that’s when Connor defines another emotion.

“I’ll go check on him then.”

_ Fuck _ .

Consternation is suddenly pushing every other emotion aside, good and bad, without bias. Connor looks down at his body, still bare from the waist down, new prick in full view. Nines can’t see him like this, he just  _ can’t _ , not if it’s to remain a surprise, not for another…

**[Installation in progress…  
** **5%  
** **Estimated time… 102 minutes]**

_ One-hundred and two minutes _ ? It had gone up! But of course, all of Connor’s processes are no longer focused on the download, but on what to do, how to hide the surprise as quickly and efficiently as possible, ensure that Nines—an android designed, programmed, built to uncover mysteries and leave no secret unearthed—doesn’t suspect a thing.

But Connor is no different. Nines may be a newer model, but Connor is no early-alpha release himself. He just needs to calm down, construct a plan on how to hide all the evidence and ensure Nines does not uncover anything suspicious, and—

He can hear Nines’ footsteps echoing down the hall. His usually measured, confident paced is rushed somewhat, and Connor gets a thrill from the idea that Nines is hurrying just to see him. 

—he’s got to do it quickly.  _ Now _ .

Nines is faster than Connor, but he’s not moving at full speed. Connor, on the other hand, feels like he’s pushing the limits of what even his advanced android body can handle as he pulls his underwear and pants on and begins re-cinching his belt. He’s just pulled his hands away after tucking his shirt back into his pants when Nines opens the door—without knocking of course, so few androids have a sense of privacy, and Connor and Nines certainly have nothing to hide from one another anymore.

“Connor,” Nines greets, breathing out Connor’s name like it’s a prayer. Connor wastes no time rushing up to him and taking a tight hold of his chest, snaking his arms between Nines’ biceps and his torso so he could be properly hugged back.

“I missed you,” Connor says, voice muffled because he has his head buried in Nines’ chest. Nines exhales in some sort of half-laugh, but the way he runs his hands up Connor’s back and massages his fingers into his shoulder blades says he’s missed Connor too.

“I just saw you a little while ago,” he teases anyway, pressing his nose into the top of Connor’s head. Connor huffs against him.

“You barely looked away from your computer,” Connor tries to tease back, but the words come out more biting than he was hoping. Connor can’t help the way he feels, still annoyed Nines has had so little time for him, or for  _ anything _ besides the case for that matter.

“I know,” Nines reaches one of his hands up and pets the back of Connor’s head, smoothing down the hair that had been slightly tousled in Connor’s hurry to get dressed. “I’m sorry.”

“How long are you staying?” Connor fears the worst, that Nines will say that he’ll be in and out, back to staring at case files all night with Gavin after he’s done one quick thing…

“All night, assuming no emergencies come up,” he promises, and Connor relaxes against him in relief.

“Hank and I are about to go on a walk,” Connor looks up from Nines’ chest, meeting his eyes. “You should come.”

“I’d love to,” Nines needs no convincing, of course. “Have you finished installing your new parts?”

Oh,  _ shit _ . The worry coils back up in Connor’s chest. 

“Almost, the software just needs to finish downloading,” it’s not a lie, Connor would never want to lie to Nines, it’s just… no more information than he asked for, is all.

“What did you purchase?”

Shit!

“Ah…” Connor scrambles for a half-truth, “nothing extremely important to my systems, just something… small.” If Connor were alone, he might have laughed at the irony—he had been getting much better with humor lately. There.  _ There _ . That was another full, albeit vague truth. Now please, please drop it, Connor begs internally. No more questions.

Nines hums thoughtfully, and Connor can only help no micro-expressions had given him away. He was so bad at controlling those, the way his nose would wrinkle in disgust when entering a particularly brutal crime scene, the way his mouth would curve to the side at yet another  _ scathing _ remark from Gavin, the way his eyes would crinkle when he smiled at Sumo. Hank told him they were human, and Nines said he found them cute, but right now, Connor hated them.

But either he’s noticed nothing or has decided to let it slip, because Nines doesn’t push any further, “alright.”

“I’ll show you later,” Connor promises, and he barely keeps himself from winking in that way Hank says makes him look dorky. 

“Wonderful,” Nines nods, now content. “After our walk?”

Connor checks the download again.

**[Installation in progress…  
** **7%  
** **Estimated time… 81 minutes]**

“Yes, after our walk,” Connor leans up and presses a kiss to Nines’ cheek. The download speed should increase now that Connor’s stress levels are going down, and are likely to only lessen as he enjoys his time with his family. 

“I’m going to get my shoes on,” Connor says, and finally the two break their hug so Connor can return to the bed. He sits on the edge and bends forward to grab one of his shoes.

“How is the case going?” Connor asks, against his better judgement really. He doesn’t want Nines to be thinking about the case right now, but he’s curious, hoping to hear that Nines and Gavin had been making great strides of progress, that Nines won’t have to spend any more nights at the office.

“As well as it has been,” Nines replies with a sigh, leaning back against the doorframe. “In fact, I’ve calculated a decrease in progress of approximately…”

He trails off then, and at first Connor thinks nothing of it. He’s redoing the calculations, double checking the numbers, but then a moment passes, followed by another, and another. The silence becomes awkward, and Connor looks up from where he had managed to get his shoe half-on.

Nines isn’t looking at him from where he reclines—the position looks stiff and unnatural when Nines does it, rigid as he normally is—but instead… slightly to Connor’s left, he realizes. At first he’s worried Nines has short-circuited, that the stress of work has gotten to him and overheated some important bio-component in his head, or that perhaps he’s slipped into sleep-mode, he had been so exhausted this whole week, but then he’s talking again.

“Connor, is that…?” 

Connor cocks an eyebrow wordlessly. What was Nines talking about? He turns then, to his left, to get a better look at what Nines is so focused on. It’s just their bed, perfectly made as always, pillows fluffed up and looking beyond comfortable, which is a shame considering how rarely they use this bed for sleeping. And then his gaze shifts a little closer to himself, and—

That’s when Connor’s systems freeze up.

There, beside him, having been completely forgotten in his rush to get dressed, is…

“Is that your phallic model?”

Shit.  _ Shit _ .

“Uh…” What can Connor possibly say at this point, besides blatant lies? “It… seems to be, yes.” 

“Why is it on the bed?”

“Ah…” Nothing. There’s nothing to say now, nothing that will content Nines besides the full truth, and Connor  _ can’t _ give that to him yet. 

“Does this have something to do with your new upgrade?” Nines presses further. He steps up to the bed and picks up the old hardware, turning it over in his hands an lightly rubbing his fingers down the disconnected cables. 

“It… conflicted with the hardware I was installing!” Connor is moving further and further away from simple half-truths. At this rate, his surprise is going to be ruined.

Connor watches as Nines’ LED spins yellow once, twice, and then it feels like his thirium pump is sinking into his chest at what Nines says next, “there are no CyberLife-approves upgrades that would conflict with your model.”

Of course there aren’t. Of course Nines would cross-examine Connor. Of  _ course  _ Connor just had to fall for an android like Nines, who’d never let even the simplest, most unassuming of scentences go unchecked when he was searching for the truth. 

Nines is looking at him now, expecting some kind of response, an explanation, but the only thing Connor can do is reveal his surprise…

**[Installation in progress…  
** **13%  
** **Estimated time… 77 minutes]**

Seventy-seven minutes early. All in all, his options aren’t looking good. Worse than that, they’re looking awful.

“It’s just…” And awful as all his options are, continuing to talk is undoubtedly the worst, which is why it makes no sense when Connor chooses it. Just one of those quirks of being deviant, he supposes, you gt to make irrational, horrible decisions. 

“It’s…” Not like Connor is actually going to say anything. He  _ can’t _ , can’t think of a single plausible explanation besides telling Nines the truth. Not even his social relations program is pulling up anything helpful.

**[ >Not CyberLife-approved  
** **> Change subject** **  
** **> Tell the truth** **  
** **> Leave]**

Nines would see through each and every one of those options. 

“Show me,” Nines is saying, sliding down onto the bed closer to Connor. He’s not pressing his lips to Connor’s cheek but he’s awful close, and Connor can tell from here… he can’t feel anything ghosting over his skin. Is Nines holding his breath?

“It’s suppose to be a surprise,” Connor huffs back, not like it would do him any good, not now that Nines is so eager to know more.

“Surprise me now, then.”

“It’s not even fully installed!” 

“I want to see anyway.” Nines must have put the old model down at some point, because both of his hands are on Connor’s thighs and he’s moving his legs apart. Bastard, he already knows what Connor has installed, hasn’t he? And yet he’s still pushing to see it.

Connor could say “no,” his systems remind him. He could say he doesn’t want to right now, wants to wait until they were back from the walk and the software was fully installed. But, well…

“Patience is a virtue,” Connor chides him, but he’s undoing his fly anyway, and the look of satisfaction that pulls on Nines’ face sends a shiver down his spine.

The fly and button are undone, and Connor pulls his new cock through the hole in his boxers—not actually a necessary addition to his clothing, considering he doesn’t drink anything besides fluids found at crime scenes, and those are all expelled in other ways, but buying human clothing always results in several unnecessary additions. He stares down at himself, thirium pump pulsing hard and heavy, body heating up and thirium rushing despite how Connor cannot get hard. He really shouldn’t scold Nines for his impatience when Connor was no better off, counting down the seconds until his installation was at one-hundred percent.

Connor tears his eyes away and turns to Nines, who—

He sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of Nines staring down at him, eyes wide and LED spinning as he processed what was before him. Did he not like it? They had never discussed this before, perhaps Connor with a small cock was something Nines only liked to tease him with when they had sex, not something he was actually hoping to happen. Suddenly Connor finds himself self-conscious, moves to tuck himself away once more, opens his mouth to say that he’ll be removing it and re-installing his old model soon, that he was just curious.

As soon as his hands are moving, however, Nines’ dart up. Connor’s wrists are suddenly caught in a tight hold as Nines slides off the bed and positions himself between Connor’s still spread knees. Connor allows himself to be moved as Nines sees fit, and ends up pushed back down into the soft blanket, Nines managing to hold both of his wrists in one strong hand ( _ fuck _ Connor loved it when he did that), while the other was on Connor’s thigh, spreading him a little further.

Connor can do nothing but watch as Nines moves his hand again, once Connor is spread to his liking, and then he’s running a single finger along the underside of Connor’s prick, and Connor  _ whines _ at the sight, legs kicking up as his body struggles to find some way to physically show his arousal.

Nines looks up at him, and smirks, “did that feel good, Connor? I only need the one finger to stroke you.” And to further prove his point, he’s massaging the tip of his finger into the head of Connor’s cock in small circles. 

“I-I-...” Connor keens again as Nines slowly starts to pump Connor with only his thumb and two fingers, any more and Connor would be utterly  _ engulfed _ . Connor’s hips buck up uselessly, an instinctual reaction, as if he could feel anything right now, and Nines chuckles at the sight, but his eyebrows are knitted together slightly. Of course, he’s likely a bit confused.

“I can’t-” another whine as Connor settles back into the bed, eyes fluttering shut because he simply cannot take the sight of it anymore, “I can’t feel anything yet.” Not entirely true, Connor supposes. His entire crotch area is still numb as his sensors reinstall and reconnect with the new hardware, but there is a pooling heat in the pit of his stomach still.

“Mm,” Nines hums thoughtfully, and Connor risks opening his eyes once more only to find Nines has not stopped stroking him, not even after learning it would have no physical effects—another lie, Connor’s entire body jerks at the sight, and…

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

Fuck. Connor scrunches his eyes shut again and closes the error out, declining to run a diagnostic or submit a report to CyberLife. 

“You can’t feel a thing,” Nines leans forward and presses kisses into Connor’s cheeks until Connor is opening his eyes again, and immediately he regrets doing so.

“Not even this?” His fist wraps around Connor’s soft cock and  _ squeezes _ , and Connor doesn’t see it for longer than a second, because stars have erupted in his vision. His body jerks up again, desperately trying to follow usual arousal protocols but finding so many offline, all Connor can do is squirm.

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

“Look at how small you are,” Nines cooes, looking at his closed fist from all angles. His eyes are burning with arousal, LED spinning rapidly and occasionally flashing yellow, as if Nines was cataloguing this information. The thought of Nines  _ reviewing _ all this at a later date makes Connor feel warm.

“I wonder…” Nines says something else but he mumbles it, and Connor’s processors are so foggy now he doubts he’d have heard it anyway. 

What Nines said doesn’t matter though, not when he’s dropping down onto his knees beside the bed and wrapping his lips around the head of Connor’s prick. He swallows him down in one fluid motion, and Connor  _ screams  _ at the sight, kicks his legs out and arches his back high off the bed, each and every muscle he has tensing when his body can’t do anything else.

It feels… it doesn’t  _ feel _ like anything, and yet Connor’s skin is alight, scratching against his clothes and the blanket beneath him, and he’s only mere moments from bursting with the heat inside of his stomach. 

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

_ Errors _ . That’s what these intense sensations and sudden twitches are, what they must be. Connor closes the dialog box only to find…

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

It’s popped up again. Of course, it won’t stop popping up until Connor stops trying to get erect, until  _ Nines _ stops playing with him, or until his software has fully installed, whichever comes first. He closes out the second dialog box.

And the third.

And the fourth.

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

And the fifth.

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

“Go away,” he whines, much like a child who had just been told by their parents that now is not the time for playing games, but for doing schoolwork, as he rapidly clicks out of box after box after box.

And suddenly Nines is moving away, mouth popping off Connor with an indecent noise.

“Of course,” he says, then he stands up and goes to move away from the bed, but Connor manages to catch him with his legs and pull him back close.

“Not you!” He huffs, like that was supposed to be obvious.

“What else, then?” And thank  _ God _ his hands are back on Connor, so cool through the fabric of Connor’s clothes, yet setting Connor’s body alight even more.

“The error messages.” They’ve stopped coming for now, Connor has managed to relax his body enough to get the error message to go away, fortunately. 

“Error messages?” Concern lines Nines’ voice, and Connor preemptively wraps his legs around Nines’ hips a little tighter, to crush any thought Nines might have about pulling away before it can even form. 

“They’re gone now,” Connor says, and now that he has the ability to move his hands again, he’s pushing himself back up into a sitting position, close enough to Nines that he could kiss him. “You can still fuck me, the sensors in my ass are still fully functional,  _ please _ , Nines—” 

Nines takes the initiative and kisses Connor first, shutting him up quickly and  _ efficiently _ with his tongue. It had been pushed into Connor’s mouth almost immediately, and Connor did not hesitate for a second before moaning and sucking around it, hips stuttering in search of something,  _ anything _ , but there was nothing to find, nothing that  _ could _ be found.

Nines breaks the kiss and it sounds so wet, Connor almost flinches at the noise of their lips and tongues separating. He surges forward, not wanting the kiss to end yet, and manages to catch Nines’ lower lip between his teeth. He steals one more, quick, chaste kiss before Nines is pulling back further, and this time, Connor lets him.

“I’m not going to fuck you if it could lead to errors. It would be best to avoid direct stimulation,” Nines says, firmly, but the way he’s rubbing Connor’s arm indicates he will not leave Connor wanting tonight. 

And, sure enough, “but this is all for me, isn’t it? And I would very much like to indulge in my new  _ surprise _ . You’ll have to excuse me, Connor, but I’m going to be a little bit selfish.”

“That’s fine,” Connor breathes, nodding his head, “that’s fine, be as selfish as you want.” Because ultimately, Connor knows that any  _ selfish _ thing Nines does always drives him crazy with pleasure.

Nines presses another kiss to his jaw and whispers, “why don’t you take off your clothes for me? I’ll be right back.” And with that he’s pulling away, and though Connor wants to chase after him, he does as Nines says.

After Nines leaves the room, carefully closing the door behind him, Connor immediately sets to undressing. He’s taking off his clothes almost as quickly as he pulled them on when Nines was walking down the hall, and in no time at all, he’s fully nude. He is a little more careful when he folds his clothing, once again ensuring they won’t wrinkle, and puts them aside. 

Just as he’s finished with that, Nines is back, and Connor hardly has a moment to greet him before Nines is on him, pulling him back down to sit on the bed and wrapping his arms around him, kissing his neck and jaw and shoulder—anywhere he can reach. Connor feels like if Nines was squeezing him any tighter, he’d melt into him, not like he wasn’t already, moaning and sighing at every brush of Nines’ lips to Connor’s skin.

“I’ve managed to postpone our walk for just a little while,” Nines mutters into his cheek, and Connor laughs lightly at the idea of how  _ that _ particular conversation probably went. Nines is nothing if not a little blunt when it comes to talking about sex, and Connor can’t imagine Hank much appreciated it. 

“You’re… family, Connor,” Hank had told him once, when Connor had asked why Hank found talking about sex so uncomfortable. “Don’t wanna hear about family gettin’ busy.” 

It was sweet, Connor decided. 

But the laugh is cut short when Nines grinds forward, pressing his clothed erection into the side of Connor’s thigh, and Connor whines at the feeling of it. Suddenly, he can think of nothing but Nines.

“Fuck me,” he begs, despite Nines saying that he wouldn’t only minutes ago. Maybe he had forgotten, maybe he’d do it anyway. “Fuck me, Nines, wanna feel you—”

“I’ve already told you, Connor,” Nines  _ tsks _ , and he’s pulling away just a little bit, enough so he can once again arrange Connor onto his back with his hands above his head, “that direct stimulation could cause problems with the download. I don’t want to risk damaging you.”

“I promise I’ll tell you if something pops up, just  _ please _ —” it’s a bold-faced lie, Connor would do nothing to stop Nines from pounding him into the mattress until all he saw were swirling colors instead of the shapes of the furniture in their room, and Nines seems to know it. That, or he’s too attached to his current plan to care for Connor’s plight.

He had promised to be selfish, Connor supposes begging won’t work tonight.

“You’ll keep your hands here won’t you? Good boy,” Nines cooes in his ear, as if Connor has already promised he would, though Connor can hardly judge him for it, because Nines knows he’d do anything for him. He nods his head and tightens his hands into fists, and then Nines releases his hold on his wrists. Connor could lock up the systems in his arms, prevent them from moving entirely unless some other outside force—Nines—moved them, but he likes the idea of working to follow Nines’ command more.

The hands once holding him in place start trailing down the sides of Connor’s body, leaving static in their wake. Nines is still cooing something, but he’s pulled back now, and is staring intently at Connor’s new cock. Connor can’t hear a word he says, but the heat of his gaze is enough to drive him wild anyway, and he squirms under it, physically pleading with Nines to  _ touch him already _ .

As if on cue, as punishment for Connor’s neediness, Nines is pulling away, and Connor arches his back with a whine. Nines laughs,  _ laughs _ , and gives Connor’s hip a gentle slap, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough that Connor can hear the sound of his hand crashing against his skin resonate. He gasps, but the noise catches in his throat.

“Stay still,” Nines orders, and Connor narrows his eyes at him but does as he says. This is for Nines, after all, Connor doesn’t want to do anything he doesn’t like.

Though, honestly, Connor has a feeling that he could do anything and Nines would like it.

Despite that, Connor remains still, best he can, as Nines moves towards their small bedside table. He opens the drawer and pulls out—

Lubricant. Connor recognizes the bottle immediately, can use his advanced vision to read the label all the way from here. His chest flutters at the sight, Nines is going to fuck him after all? After all that talk about not wanting to  _ damage _ Connor—as if an error in downloading a new cock could cause lasting damage, Connor almost scoffs at the thought—and he’s changed his mind so quickly. 

Nines must notice the satisfied look on Connor’s face when he’s come back, because he smiles as he puts the lube down beside Connor’s head, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss to Connor’s lips as he slowly begins removing his jacket. 

Connor focuses entirely on the kiss, moving his lips against Nines’ and sighing each time Nines takes a quick nip or lick to his mouth. The kiss never deepens or grows particularly rough, however, and Connor can’t help but wonder if Nines is just trying to keep him entertained until he’s undressed so Connor won’t start whining again.

It’s not a bad idea, really, it’s  _ working _ .

Finally Nines breaks the kiss, pulling back enough for Connor to see his bare chest. Connor can never get enough of the sight of Nines naked like this, of the rolling hills that were his muscles. Why did CyberLife bother with such details? The appearance of muscles certainly wasn’t necessary for androids, but perhaps they were meant to appear intimidating. On Connor, they had quite the opposite effect.

Connor wondered what the old CyberLife would think if they discovered how Connor wanted to run his tongue over each and every one. 

Connor couldn’t see Nines cock from this angle, Nines is leaning down a little too closely, but already he’s picturing it. He pictures what it will look like when it’s pressed hot and heavy against Connor’s new cock.

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Connor curses, hips rolling up involuntary. He’s trying to avoid accidentally starting the erection processes,  _ really _ , but he can hardly help it when—

His cock grinds into Nines’ hard abdomen, and though he can’t feel it he  _ sees  _ how easily his cock disappears between their bodies.

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

**[Error: Large surges of electricity detected  
** **Various motor skills may be impaired. Overheating may occur.]**

Connor’s body convulses suddenly, and Nines has taken hold of his hips and forced him back flat on the bed. 

“I told you, you’re to avoid direct stimulation,” he scolds, but there is no heat behind it. In fact, he’s grinning, eyes burning with arousal. It’s almost enough to make Connor jerk up again, but instead he just shudders weakly in his grip.

“You say that,” Connor tries to pull off a light, teasing tone, but his voice comes out rough and breathless, “but you took the lubricant from the desk.”

“There are many uses for lubricant beyond just stretching you open, Connor.” Nines moves forward once again, one hand running up the side of Connor’s face before the fingers tangle in his hair, the other supporting Nines’ weight as he leans down and gently nips at the top of Connor’s cheek, just below his eye. “You have such a filthy mind.”

And then suddenly he’s standing straight again, leaving Connor cold and wanting, and oh-so curious and  _ confused _ about the lubricant. He watches intently as Nines picks it up from the bed and pops open the cap, then he’s pouring a more than generous amount into the palm of his hand.

Nines’ clean hand takes hold of Connor’s calf, and Connor allows his leg to be moved out and up. And then, Nines is pressing his slicked hand up against the inside of Connor’s thigh and smearing the lube over the soft skin.

Connor gasps as the freezing lube is rubbed into his overheated thigh. He cannot feel temperature like humans and a select few androids can, but his temperature sensors are going haywire at the sudden change, making Connor’s leg twitch and him whine. 

“It’s  _ cold _ ,” he complains to Nines, who laughs but does not stop.  _ Selfish. _

“You’ll warm up soon enough,” he promises, and then he’s pouring more lube into his hand and slicking up Connor’s other thigh as well. It’s a promise Connor knows Nines will keep, and one he finds himself very eager about.

Eventually Nines must be content with the work he’s done, because he’s running his hands up and down the outsides of Connor’s legs. Connor rubs his legs together curiously, watches the excess lube slip down his skin towards his still numb crotch, pooling in the crease between his thighs and pelvis. 

“What was the point of that?” Connor asks. He could figure it out himself he’s sure, run numerous calculations or pre-constructions, but Nines always tells him his plans in ways that leaves Connor aching for more, and he’s desperate for anything now, even if it’s just teasing words and promises he knows will be fulfilled.

Nines responds with nothing, however, beyond a content hum. He uses the excess lube still shining on his hand—an awful lot was left behind, Nines had gone overboard this time, always so careful—and begins stroking himself. Connor watches with rapt attention as Nines coats himself in lube, head rolling back as he plays with himself. Connor’s body reacts on instinct, that  _ look _ on Nines’ face means Connor will be on the receiving end of something very good soon, and he moans at the sight of Nines’ eyes fluttering closed as he rubs his thumb over the head of his massive, fat cock.

“This is all you need to get off, isn’t it?” Nines says, voice low, “just want to watch me stroke myself until I’m coming in your face, hm?” 

And Connor finds himself just as in love with as he loathes the idea, would love to be  _ marked _ by Nines in such a way but he doesn’t want Nines to leave him untouched, so instead of moaning his agreement or whining his displeasure, he bucks his hips and whimpers.

“Another time,” Nines promises—threatens—and then he’s taking hold of Connor’s calves and repositioning him again, only slightly this time. He bends Connor’s legs up like he intends to fold him in half, and Connor pictures the position in his mind and finds himself twitching at the thought, mouth hanging open noiselessly.

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

**[Error: Large surges of electricity detected  
** **Various motor skills may be impaired. Overheating may occur.]**

Connor squeezes his eyes shut and clears the errors away yet again.

Nines does not fold Connor in half, however, or not entirely. He’s lifted Connor’s legs up and hugs them close to one side of his chest, using one arm to hold them in place while his free hand runs up and down the outside of Connor’s thigh. His gaze is firmly glued to Connor’s new cock, eyes filled with a heat and passion that almost makes Connor  _ embarrassed _ , sends an almost uncomfortable warmth through his neck and cheeks. Unable to cover himself, protect himself at all from Nines’ intense stare, Connor squirms.

That garners a reaction from Nines, who chuckles above him, “aw, it’s a little too late to be shy, baby.” 

“Quit staring,” Connor huffs back anyway. He’s done with feeling nothing but Nines’ eyes on his cock. He wants his mouth again, his hands,  _ anything _ , even if he can’t actually feel anything at all.

“You’re beautiful,” Nines replies instead of anything  _ helpful _ , and Connor whines, internal temperature rising at the compliment. Nines’ hand moves further down Connor’s thigh, over his hip, and then up his navel. His thumb, spread away from the other fingers, is so close,  _ so close _ to Connor’s cock, and Connor’s hips twitch again, despite how he knows having Nines’ hand on him will accomplish nothing.

Immediately Nines takes his hand away, and Connor groans, trying to sound as displeased as possible, but it comes out like a high-pitched cry instead.

“Soon, as soon as your download is finished I’ll suck you off,” he moves Connor’s legs slightly once more, crossing his ankles, “but only if you’re a good boy.”

Soon. How soon?

**[Installation in progress…  
** **18%  
** **Estimated time… 122 minutes]**

_ Shit _ . But every second Connor would spend  _ being good _ would be worth it in the end if it meant he could have Nines’ hot mouth around his tiny prick, actually able to feel his talented tongue against the underside of it, feel Nines suck around him as he easily swallowed him down to the root— 

“I’ll be good,” Connor whines in response, and Nines hums contently. 

He switches his hands, holds Connor’s legs up against his chest with his other arm now, while the now free hand disappears between Connor’s thighs. Connor cannot see what Nines is doing with it, not with how his legs block the view, but he learns quickly, so quickly, when he feels the hot head of what can only be Nines’  _ cock _ press up against the back of his thighs.

And sure enough, Nines thrusts forward until his cock is all the way through, until Connor can see the head of it peeking through his legs. His breath catches in his throat at the sight, of the  _ size _ of it, of how the meat of his thighs molds around the shaft as Connor squeezes his legs tight around him.

And squeeze he does, as tightly as his body can manage, both because his body simply can’t relax when Connor is like this, and because Connor wants this to be as pleasurable as possible for Nines, who clearly appreciates it. He moans above Connor, hugs his legs, now holding them up with both arms, even tighter as his hips stutter forward just a few more inches.

Then he’s pulling back again, and Connor watches, fascinated, as his thighs swallow up Nines’ cock until he’s fucking back forward. Connor keens at the sight, squeezes his hands, still locked into place above his head, because he’s a good boy, into fists. How is this any better than  _ direct stimulation _ ? 

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

**[Error: Large surges of electricity detected  
** **Various motor skills may be impaired. Overheating may occur.]**

Nines’ soft grunts and moans are soon filling the room, and Connor is powerless to do anything but keep his legs squeezed tight around him and  _ watch _ , let himself be used like he’s nothing more than a toy for Nines’ pleasure, because right now his cock is utterly useless. 

“You’re being so good for me, Connor,” Nines huffs above him, hips speeding up and he’s fucking into Connor’s thighs faster. The sound of skin slapping against skin pounds in Connor’s ears, the wet squelch of the lube on his inner thighs slicking the way for Nines’ cock. Connor is panting now, and he’s not sure if it’s because of how aroused he is, how his circuits are lighting up inside his body despite how they  _ shouldn’t _ , or because his internal temperature is still steadily climbing, and his body is forcing him to cool down. 

Each thrust forward is making Connor’s body surge by now, electricity trying to surge to his still limp dick and finding the channels closed and unresponsive. With nowhere else to go, they shoot straight to Connor’s gut, his head, his thirium pump, making him shiver and causing glitches in his vision. 

“ _ Harder _ ,” he begs, even if he can’t feel this like he wants to, because suddenly Connor finds himself craving more of the wet noises Nines is causing, wants to see him fuck rough into Connor’s thighs until he’s coming hard all over Connor’s chest and maybe even his face, coating Connor entirely. Nines does not even scold him for being impatient, he simply obliges, pushes forward until he’s fucking into Connor’s thighs with an inhuman force that is driving the pressure sensors on the backs of Connor’s thighs wild. There’s an almost sharp, stinging pain there now, and Connor  _ loves it _ .

And then Nines is leaning forward even more, bending Connor further, down enough so he can pull one of his arms away from Connor’s legs and run his hand down Connor’s side. He takes a hold of Connor’s nipple and  _ tugs _ , and Connor’s entire body freezes for a split second as it tries to process sensations it simply cannot do anything about.

**[Error: Large surges of electricity detected  
** **Various motor skills may be impaired. Overheating may occur.]**

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

**[Error: voice synthesizer overheating  
** **Vocalizations may go offline.]**

“Ni- _ ines _ ,” Connor whines, torn between telling Nines to stop, that he’s causing errors, and begging for more and more and more until Connor explodes with it all, but his voice sounds so staticy and quiet and  _ desperate _ , he’s not sure he can get anything out besides Nines’ name. 

So he says it again, “Nines!”

And Nines loves that, loves hearing his name on Connor’s lips when they’re pressed together and when Connor is so,  _ so  _ close—but Connor isn’t close now, there’s no way he’d actually be able to come like this, not with his ejaculation process entirely off-line. He’s fucking even harder now, and bending Connor more and more until—

Connor screams at the sudden feeling, something he  _ knows _ he should be able to feel. Nines is fucking into his thighs at just the right angle, at such a  _ perfect _ speed, and his cock is sliding against Connor’s, grinding into the sensitive new skin that shouldn’t even be working yet.

**[Error: sensors in use may not be fully or properly installed.]**

**[Error: Large surges of electricity detected  
** **Various motor skills may be impaired. Overheating may occur.]**

**[Error: tactile sensors overheating  
** **Sensors may go offline.]**

And he keeps doing it, again and again and again, reveling in the way Connor writhes under his body, body twitching and freezing in random, frequent intervals. His eyes are unfocused and glassy, pleasure taking over his mind, and he can’t see a thing beyond all the error messages now.

**[Error: sensors i̻͖n ̗̼̗͍͖̱ͅu̧͈͉̫̬̹͍s̩̞͇͝e̩͘ may not be fully or properly installed.]**

**[Error: Large surges of electricity detected  
** **Various motor skills may be impaired. Overheating may occur.]**

**[Error: tactile sensors overheating  
** **Sensors may go offline.]**

**[Error: temperature sensors overheating  
** **Sensors may go o̫̭̟͈̭̞̦f͓̩̻̣f̘̫̯͡l̺̞̰̺͇i͈͙n̷̼̰e̥͍͝. Temperature reports will be inaccurate.]**

**[Error: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attempts to start erection_processes may lead to additional errors.]**

**[Error: voice synthesizer o̫͙̯̫v̞̰̝͕͔͠e̶̼r̻͓͓h͕̜̩̪̥̣e͞a̖̩ț̜̰̫͞ͅi̴̮͔̯̩͉͖̞n̤̲̹̩̲̥͜g̭͖͚̳͎̪̻  
** **Vocalizations may go offline.]**

They’ve taken up the entirety of his vision and it’s driving Connor mad—he wants to see Nines’ face as he fucks into his thighs, wants to see the way his cock presses against his own, but he can’t. It doesn’t change how he still  _ feels  _ it however, distantly, staticky, as if he’s being touched a million miles away but feeling it  _ here _ .

And Nines is still playing with his nipple, still squeezing and twisting it between his fingers as if he hadn’t just told Connor how dangerous direct stimulation could be. Not like Connor is going to remind him,  _ this _ he can feel for certain, and it feels so  _ good _ .

**[Error: s̫e͖͟ṉs̜͙͈͕̣̥̤͘ọ̪̻̰̫͎͍͟r̦͟s҉͕̼̠͔̘ ̦̘̜̖̰in use may not be fully or p͉͇̞̠͈̕ͅr̨͕̟o͚̼p̡̮̮̫̜e̬̣̬̲͙͍r̳̖̜l͖͓̜͚͕y̡̙ͅ ̷͔̟̝̮̲͉installed.]**

**[Error: Large s͓̖͢u̶r͎͕̬̝͕g͉̞͇͎̜̘ȩ͈̻̼͙s̴͔ of electricity detected  
** **Various motor skills m̸̩͈̠͕͍͈̠a̙̻̺̻͠y҉̺̲͍ ̤̪be impaired. O̬̜͓̠̤̝̜v̯̮̞e̱̲͎͎̩r̪̮̥̳̲͞h̥̮̘̣̻e̷̮̭a̢̳t̮i̜͡ng̵͙̤̞̬̻ ̸͕̹͕̘̣̜ may occur.]**

**[E̲͉r̕r̝͕̮͟o͡r: erection_processes offline  
** **Further attemp͇̹̩͍̕t̛̫̱s ̷̗͈̩̻̩̼͓t͠o̻̗ ͎̝̜̻̻s͉̗͢t̜͚̞͔̲a̢̗͍͈͓ṟ̛̗t̹͍̘ ̤̟̤̞͉ḛ̷̱r̝̹̗̞̯̖e̞̝͓͎c͏̬̠̰̗̻̝t͎̞i̞̻̗̯̫͚o̡̰̘̖͕͙n_̧͖̦p̘͚r̬̪̩̻̙ͅo͘c̕ḛ̗s͕͖s̜e̷͔͉͚̘̲̝ͅs̷̴̤̩̝͢ͅ ̤͓͚̰̩͍m̵͇̱̮̼̥̘͔͇̕a̸̹̭̹͜ͅy͏̼̫̘ ̵̣̙͈͔̻̥l̩̝͉̼̝̣̥͜ę̝̻̼̤̭̰ͅa̡̜͉̘̥̼̞̕̕d̴͓̰̯̺̠̰̤ ̡͓̞͔͈̝̞͇t̸̝͕̝̮͝ơ̵̲̘̣͎̥̲͍͙̖͓̯̦̺̦̳̰̬̟͇̭̕͟ͅa̶̢̲͈̥̬͎̕̕d̵̖̣̥̯͕̜̙͙̝̱͎̟̦d̷͙̮̺̬̹̤̣̗̫͜i̸͇͈̥̪̞͚ţ̶͢͏̣͔̮͓̞̥̖͍̜͎i̠̙͔̙̯̘͟͝͠ͅo̷̮̩̹̰̻͉̱̥̻̹̫͉͔͇n̸̪̙̻̬̭̜̞̳͢͢͝͝ͅą͉̗͍͎̞͚̜͙̟̞̺͉͝͠ͅl҉̨̝̭̥̻̣̯̜͡͠ ̷̩̣͍͙̪̭͇̣̣̪͙̠̼͟͠͠ȩ̳̭̟͇̜̪̲̻̮͉͡r̶̵̩̙͙̤̰͚̥̣̰̱̖͚̳͟ͅr̛͔͚̟͉͇̦͚͚o̢̜̭̮͙̗̤̗̘͔̳͝r҉̡̺̱̘͎͙̭̭̲͍̮̦͡s̴̵̡̺̖̳̱̼̱͍̜̘̜̝̠̺͍̝̙̭̥͚͟.̟̠̮͙͝]**   
  


 

“You look so good, Connor,” Nines is saying, and his voice sounds staticky too, but Connor has no way of knowing if it’s Nines’ voice that’s malfunctioning or his own auditory receptors. “So cute with your little cock, just the perfect size for you, isn’t it?” 

Connor can’t say anything, is shocked he can process what Nines is saying even, so he nods along silently, hips twitching up in search of more of that delicious friction, and Nines is too far gone to keep it from him.

“Can’t wait until your download is finished. I’m gonna fuck you so hard, until your sweet prick won’t have anything left to give me.” 

And  _ that _ sounds wonderful, makes Connor’s body surge again, sparks firing behind his eyes. 

And then Nines’ hips are stuttering, pace becoming unrhythmic and almost  _ human _ in its imperfections. Connor still can’t see his face, not beyond all the pop-ups, but he can imagine it perfectly, how his hair would be mused back, how his eyes would be unfocused, how his mouth would be hanging slightly agape. 

It’s not just Nines’ hips that are slamming in faster, the error messages are appearing everywhere now, Connor swears he can feel them in his chest. 

**[̡̩͓͍̖̳̪Ȩ̢̪̲r̤͈̜̕r̷҉̪̬͔̮̯̲͕͇o̞̳̟̕͝r̸̻̫͍͘:̜͚͉̻̪ ͎̖̫̱̻̣͕͝s͉̠͡͞s̶̝̤͔̤s̸̗͟͞s̷̪̙̥͙͚̩͟s̢͏̜̦ş̵͖s͇̹̲̲̖ͅṣ̢͇̭̼̜ en s̞̰̻o͉̬͈̳ͅr̝̗̞͎̬͇͝s̝͙͉̜ ̸͍i͕͈̰̲̹̩n̬ ̧͖̰̱u̥͇̼̕s̮̻͎̘̯͓͟  ͏̪f̡͔ṷ̩̲̬̹l͞l̙̳̟̲͔̜͜y̝̞͙͠ ̣̯̖̬̙̯͞o̗͉̭̠͓̫͝r̢̥̭ͅ ̱̩̥̰p̪͢r̛̠̼͓̼o̯̱̥̮̬̝o□︎□︎□︎o ṯ̴̦̹̮a̴͍̺l̫̗͞ļ͙e̶͔͕̪̪̫̫d̫̮̗.̰͈̹̲͡]҉͉̞͙** **̱**

**[͍̟̲̠̩E̜̜r̺̤̫̬r͓̻̝͢o̯r͡:̢̼͕ �̲̣̲͉̦̳̹�̻̝̝︎̷͎̫͍̘̭̲͚̕ͅ♋︎⍓͏̡̹̫̞̥̲͕̗ͅ︎͈̹̮͚̺̫̳̟̹ ̶̖̟̜̘̞̫■̨̱̭̺͙̫͎̥̬︎̢̫͇̟□͚̺̻̗̤͜͠︎̰̳̜̺̥⧫̝̮͍͞ͅ︎͉̗̰͔͉͖̦ ♌︎♏︎s͖̯͇sssssssss ̝͖̭͘R͈͕̲͍͉u̯̬̼̼̪ṋn̝͖̠i̹n҉̰̲͉̭g ̘͖̳͖̝͚eṃͅę͓͙r̹͜ge͙̺̗͜n̲̠̪̟ͅcy͈͍̯̟̙̜͈͘ ❍e♏︎❒︎♑︎♋︎■︎♍︎⍓︎̺͈p͚r̶̥o̺͕̝t͓͡e͞c̡̙͓̤̩t̟̙̳͎̞̤̱i͎̤͢v̜̦͓͟ȩ͉͔ ̡͚̞p̱̗̕ŗ̻͕̹̱o͏̳̦̠̺̖̣̲c͚̻͍̱̯̮͜ͅe̤̳̦ͅs̮͕̗̬͕͜ͅs̭̞̼͜e̤̖ș̢͈̙͎̲…̠̯̣̤̣̣͙]̙̼̯͜ͅ**

**͙**

 

They don’t even make sense anymore, or maybe Connor’s too far gone, too high off the feeling of his body desperately searching for some way to release all this heat. They’re just merged together until all Connor can see is one giant warning, a notice that his body is experiencing several malfunctions, but what malfunction feels this good? What kind of error could leave Connor like this, shaking with electricity? 

And then something hot is spilling on his chest, globs of it sliding over his pecs and abdomen, stray drops of it spraying onto his face, and the sensors under his skin pick up on the minuscule heat difference between this substance and Connor’s body, and he’s so high-strung, so sensitive absolutely everywhere, that it’s all he needs.

To say Connor comes is both an understatement and an overstatement. He does not come, cannot possible come, his cock is still not fully connected to his body and the processes are still offline.

And yet Connor’s entire body seizes up, white hot bolts of what had to be lighting surging from his chest into his limbs, lighting every inch of Connor’s body as they crash about his insides. The error messages are blaring in Connor’s vision, but as fast as they come, they’re buried behind more and more, and Connor cannot read a single one, doesn’t even want to. 

He feels so much, everywhere, like the sensitivity of his skin has been increased by ten thousand percent and is still rising. The soft blanket beneath him feels like liquid, Nines hand still on his chest a heavy boulder, the strands of what can only be Nines’ cum feel like globs of lava melting through his body.

And it all feels so wonderful, Connor is absolutely swimming in it, wants to be trapped in these sensations forever.

But in seconds they’re gone, and with them all the error messages, and Connor is left with nothing. No heat in his gut, no heavy weight on his chest, no jumping electricity in his toes. Nothing but…

**[Sensory overload detected. Some sensors may be temporarily disabled. Please wait…]**

“Some?” Connor groans loudly, rolls his head to the side and feels nothing against his cheek. He can’t feel  _ anything _ , clearly a good few more than “some” sensors have been turned off. 

He doesn’t even feel Nines’ hand against the side of his face, doesn’t realize it’s there until he sees it out of the corner of his eye. He turns his head back and—

Oh. Well, that’s something, at least. With the error messages gone, Connor can see Nines’ face once again.

“Connor? Are you alright?” He looks concerned, but Connor is happy to see any expression at all. He gives Nines what is likely a very sloppy grin, and the concerned look flickers to satisfaction and  _ love _ .

“Fine,” Connor replies, surprising himself with how slurred the word is. He reaches up and touches Nines’ cheeks, but feels nothing beneath his fingertips.

“You froze up for a second. I was worried you had overheated.”

“‘M fine,” he says again, no less slurred than the last time. “Jus’ overloaded m’ sensors ’s all.” 

“Poor boy,” Nines coos, and then he’s leaning down and pressing a kiss to Connor’s cheek. Connor’s chest tightens when he doesn’t feel that either. 

Nines goes to pull away, but Connor catches his arm before he can get far. Even if he can’t feel Nines’ presence at the moment, he wants Nines close.

“Stay ‘ere.”

“You’re a mess,” Nines says, though he doesn’t tug his arm away. Instead he leans back just a bit, and Connor watches as his LED spins yellow for the briefest of moments, like he had done before, like he’s cataloging something. It spins back to blue, and then Nines is raising a hand up, goes to run a finger through one of the many small pools of come slowly drying on Connor’s hot—he  _ assumes  _ it’s hot—skin, but Connor grabs his wrist before he can.

“Touch me lat’r,” Connor whines. His sensors will be online again soon, and he wants to feel Nines’ hands running over his body. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Sensors went of’line,” Connor explains best he can. “Can’t feel anythin’.” 

“You can never feel anything,” Nines says, with a face that leads Connor to believe he thinks he’s being  _ cute _ . “You’re an android, you…” 

Connor waits for the rest of the sentence, but it doesn’t come. Instead Nines’ LED flashes yellow on his temple, and his brows furrow.

“Nines?” Connor cocks his head to one side, then the other. “Nines are y’ bro—“

“Androids,” Nines repeats slowly, rolling the word around on his tongue. “Android…”

Nines is broken. Worry flickers in Connor’s chest, and he moves to sit up so he can get a better look at Nines’ face, see if he can pinpoint exactly what the problem is—

“That’s it!” Nines is suddenly shouting, and Connor jumps back in shock. Nines takes a tight hold of his shoulders and pulls him close again. “Connor, it was the boyfriend!”

“Wh-wha’ was the boyfr’nd?” Connor was far too out of it to possibly imagine what Nines was talking about.

“The boyfriend is an  _ android _ , that perfectly explains the lack of fingerprints, and he wasn’t—I need to interview him immediately.”

“Nines, wai—“ Nines doesn’t stop to listen to what Connor has to say, only drops him back into the bed, leaving him just as confused as before. By the time Connor sits back up, mere seconds have passed and Nines is already half-way back into his pants.

“Where’re y’ goin’?” 

“I must contact Gavin,” Nines explains, “he needs to hear about this as soon as possible.” How Nines manages to think about Gavin at a time like this is beyond Connor, but he—

And then it hits him. Oh right. The case. 

“Y’ figured it out?” 

“Yes!” Nines has his pants on now, and is cinching up his belt. “All this time we were so sure it was the wife, I hadn’t even considered the boyfriend. But he must be the killer, it all makes sense now!”

And Connor… he knows he should feel happy for Nines. This case has been the only thing he could think about for weeks now, has been bogging him down night after night after night, keeping him from Connor and home, stressing him out beyond belief. Connor  _ is  _ happy for him, really, but…

Nines pulls his shirt on over his head, and the disappointment on Connor’s face must be obvious, because his quick pace falters. Connor doesn’t notice, is too occupied with the thought that it’ll be yet another night before Nines is home for good, and sure tomorrow he really  _ will  _ be home for good, won’t need to spend his nights at the precinct pouring over case files anymore, but Connor wanted Nines  _ tonight.  _ What about their walk?

“Ah, but…” Nines’ voice pulls Connor from his thoughts. “Gavin is likely asleep. Humans are easily exhausted by long periods of stress.”

Connor raised an eyebrow, and though he cannot feel anything on his skin still, he can feel the way his thirium pump deep inside him swells at the connotation of Nines’ words.

And, sure enough: “Perhaps I will talk to him about it tomorrow. I’d hate to cancel our walk so last-minute.”

And then he’s moving back to Connor, running his fingers through his hair and then pulling him in for a quick kiss. Though Connor cannot feel it, it leaves him feeling giddy and full, and makes him smile bright.

“Guess that means you have to clean me up now,” Connor says, slightly disappointed he will not feel the warm, wet towel against his chest as Nines cleans away the marks he so messily left.

“Mm, don’t worry, Connor,” Nines says, leaning forward so he can mumble against Connor’s cheek. “I’ll spoil you once all your sensors are back online, I promise.”

“A’ight,” Connor replies, and he sinks back against the bed while Nines goes to the bathroom down the hall to retrieve a towel.

He can hardly wait now, excitement thrumming under his skin at the thought of all the things he and Nines will do together once he can feel again, once his cock is fully-functional and there’s only the slightest risk of damage.

And that’ll be soon. Oh, so soon. In just a mere…

**[Installation in progress…  
** **21%  
** **Estimated time… 20,512,002 minutes]**

…

………

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAA!!!  
> I had a lot of fun with this -w-
> 
> Also,,, I'm gonna need ya'll to answer this totally innocent and irrelevant poll if you could >w>  
> https://www.strawpoll.me/16485755
> 
> Tooootally irelevant to ANYTHING I may or may not have planned it's totally 100% just for fun unrelated reasons.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter took,,, so much longer than normal omg,,,  
> LEMME TELL YA'LL there is nothing quite like almost accidentally sending your fanfic to your professor instead of your formal analysis on The Unicorn is Found at the Fountain to put a damper on your inspiration -w-"
> 
> Second chapter will hopefully come soon! ;)
> 
> Fun fact, I have a [tumblr](http://chicaaago.tumblr.com/)! Feel free to hit me up on there!


End file.
